Bright Smoke
by snickers3339
Summary: I'm blinded and I can see so clearly. I let the flames engulf me, I let the coldness overtake me. I hate you yet I love you. All that's left is bright smoke surrounding me. MxO angst.


**Disclaimer: I dunno. The writers can go eat dung or something, if they are not willing to share the rights with me. :) (_I JOKE_)**

**A/N: uhm. yeah. random, drabbly one-shot. This is a dark, emotional story. I am a dark, emotional person. **_(Psh, yeah right)_** :| This is one of the MANY stories that I usually never upload and that I write just for venting. I found the first one I could and just decided to expand on it, edit it and upload it. -shrug- Better than deleting it, right? :D  
**

**So I'm sorry if you don't really understand this... xD**

**If you've read 'A Bitter Pill' then this is something like that. **

**RATED M FOR STUFF NOT GOOD FOR YOUNG EYES.**

**_stuff including:  
_sex  
bad language  
cheating on people  
and a lot of confusing oxymoron-like sentences and phrases. xD  
**

* * *

This story shows a darker Miley and Oliver, as they are in a forbidden relationship. Just wanted to try a dark one-shot. I'll write a happier one later.

OOH, BTW. Erin (Skates16) and I are writing a collab together! Look out for that soon, hopefully! :)

* * *

**Bright Smoke  
**

_summary: I'm blinded and I can see so clearly. I let the flames engulf me, I let the coldness overtake me. I hate you yet I love you. All that's left is bright smoke surrounding me.  
_

* * *

It must be the alcohol - It _has _to be the alcohol. Why else would I be enjoying the fact that it's Oliver Oken's tongue shoved down my throat?

Why else would I be urgently trying to get his clothes off as fast as possible?

It _must _be the alcohol (even though I only had _one_ bottle of beer). There's no other reason.

Haziness feels good at times like these.

I can feel Oliver smirking against my mouth, and I hate it.

... _But I love it._

I'm confused, unsure as we tumble onto the bed, the music dull against my eardrums.

There's a ripping sound and both our hands are moving so fast that I'm unsure of who ripped what.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he rasps, breath hot against my ear, and his hips pushing down against mine.

Everything's so clear, but yet foggy.

My mind screams _'stop', _but my mouth growls, "Don't you _dare _stop."

He chuckles, and I feel chills run up my spine, along with his hands running down my legs.

Heat rises around us and yet, I _still _shiver.

A groan escapes my lips as he practically _devours _my skin, drenching me in a sweat and a wetness from between my legs.

And suddenly his hand is down _there _touching, stroking and I'm involuntarily whimpering and begging. He makes me putty when he touches me and I hate it.

"_Fuck_," I hiss, as a finger presses inside me, then two and oh _GOD._

"Tell me to stop," he hisses back.

I purse my lips, and shut my eyes. It's what he wants - I won't do it.

We really shouldn't be doing this, no, we _really _shouldn't.

"Are you thinking about _Jake_?" he snarls, almost nastily, pressing harder. I gasp for a breath, anger seeping through me as the name of the person I supposedly 'love' falls off his tongue.

I should be saying 'yes, yes I am', but I shake my head, feeling like a small girl, scared and angry.

"Are you thinking about me?" he asks, his voice softer, but still rough and brash.

I don't answer and he presses in again, harder and faster, fingers curling. I let out an involuntary shout, as my body trembles.

"_Answer _me," he demands.

"You, you - It's _you-- _Oh _shit, _Oliver--"

There's a flash and he's hovering over me, that spectacular feeling no longer there. His hands are now pinning me against the bed - _I wish he'd do something else with those hands _- and he looks different.

"It _can't._" He shuts his eyes as if he's in pain. "You _know _it can't--"

He's right. I know it can't be him. It can never be him... Why? I don't know. It was just an unspoken rule we had. He had Lilly and I had Jake. It worked out that way.. With us having this whole friends with benefits thing.

"..._Why_?" I ask timidly.

"You know I hate it when you ask that, Miles." He groans, moving down to nibble at my neck. I close my eyes. "I _hate _it."

"You-- You've n-never told me why--"

"I don't love you," he whispers, and he's unsure. I can tell. "I _can't_," he mumbles against my collarbone. "Repeat after me," he commands, hands pinning my wrists at my sides. "I don't love you."

My heart aches and thuds. "I d-don't love you," I say obediently.

"Do you hate me?"

"No," I answer instantly. I love him and hate him-- But it's not that I despise him. I hate what he does to me - The way he makes me unfaithful. The way he makes me feel like I'm on a cloud when he touches me - When's he groaning _my_ name and not_ hers._ The reasons why we _should _be together amount to more than the reasons to why we _shouldn't, _but apparently the reasons why we shouldn't are weighed more heavily.

"You should."

"But I don't."

"It would be better if you did."

"But I _don't,_ Oliver."

"Please," he begged.

"_No._" I shake my head, trying to free my wrists. He lets one slip out of his grasp and I use it to run my fingers through his hair. "I couldn't. You can hate me, but I know--" My breath catches. I was about to say I knew he loved me.

"What?" He knows. He looks angry. He looks sad. He looks like somebody who isn't Oliver Oken.

"Y-you-- I--" I stutter. I swallow. His eyes flash. He knows what I was about say.

"Say it," he breathes, and he rubs himself against me - We're only separated by his boxers.

I lose my breath for a second - This was what I was waiting for all night-- It's right here--

"Say it." He presses harder and I whimper, hips rolling to the touch.

I'm surprised he has more restraint than I.

"God, Miles, just _fucking _say it!" and he moves a hand down there to press two fingers in without warning. My lower body arches up, legs moving to wrap around his back. He's using one hand to pin my wrists down and my body is doing some vulgar thrusting motion of it's own accord.

"Y-you love me-- And you _know it_," I breathe, eyes blinded by some sort of supernatural light from within my head not outside. I feel my lips part but no scream comes out. He's suddenly roughly pushing his mouth against mine, biting on my bottom lip - not too roughly - and then forcing his tongue into my mouth. The slick wetness of it almost makes me lose it all, but he's a tease, _a fucking tease_, and removes his fingers.

"I _don't,_" he says, more to himself than to me.

I feel like antagonizing him in this moment, which probably isn't the smartest thing to do in this situation, considering he has me pinned and subdued.

"You do," I snarl, my breath across his cheek. His face turns to mine and we're kissing ferociously again. I can only do so much with my wrists pinned. He, however, has his free hand roaming freely across my body like he owns it.

Which, truthfully, he kind of does.

"Shut up," he mutters, annoyed.

I smile against his mouth, pressing my lips against his, sucking his bottom lip. "You _love _me."

He groans softly, and I can feel his heart thudding against mine.

It's beating so fast - Like it has just been revived.

I suppose it has, in a figurative sense. I feel like this is where we're both alive. Our little fantasy world of lies and deceit.

And it strikes me. He does love me.

"You _love _me," I repeat, realization settling in.

"I love Lilly."

A low feral snarl rips from my throat and suddenly I'm possessive.

How I managed to free myself and flip us over was a wonder to me.

I pull down his boxers, which have been stretching for a while now.

"Who?" I ask, pushing myself down on him, but just barely. I have the upper hand now, my hands planted on his chest and using my body to torture him.

"Lilly--" He breathes out, hips pushing up. He almost succeeds, but I lift myself up, shaking my head.

"_Who_?"

He grits his teeth, and flips us back over. My short-lived dominance is over and I'm wrapping my legs up around his waist and panting.

He starts a rhythm, grabbing hold of my legs.

"I _don't love you,_" he mumbles, eyes closed. The bed thuds against the wall and I'm thankful that we're at a party.

Oh God, no - I'm thankful for Oliver-- "_Harder_," I breathe, almost inaudible. But he hears me. He always does.

And it's harder. Faster -- "_Shit_."

"You," he pants, moving a slower, more torturous pace. "--Love Jake," he breathes.

And I whimper, partly in protest against his slowing down and against the lies of his statement.

"No--"

"_Yes!_"

"God, no, Oliver--"

"--Jake! You love Jake!"

And he drives into me _again, _leaving me breathless and aching, but feeling so, _so _good.

"You don't l-love L-Lilly and I d-don't love--" my sentence is cut off as he presses his lips against mine, hands grabbing my hips in a bruising manner. "J-jake," I finish, as he pulls away.

"Shut up," he breathes. "Shut _up._"

And suddenly stars pop in front of my eyes, and a rippling wave courses through me. I'm riding it, and then I'm falling into an oblivion of pure _pleasure_. I shout out his name, and a colourful choice of dirty words.

The aching intensifies into a dulled pain as I fall from my high. I crash into the water and suddenly I have tears down my cheeks.

"Why? Just-- _Why _the _fuck, _Oliver--"

"I'm sorry," he whispers, brushing away my tears. I didn't realize that I was crying. "Shh," he says soothingly. "Don't cry." He's never been this gentle with me, caressing my cheeks and pressing butterfly kisses on my brow. I've only seen him do it to Lilly--

_Lilly_.

Oh my God, I'm some sort of _homewrecker_.

My best friend-- How could I do that to her?

A rippling pain courses through my heart.

"I'm sorry, Oliver," I sob, burying my head into his neck.

"No," he murmurs. "You were right. All this time..." He trails off, leaning down to kiss me gently, tenderly, _lovingly_.

This is the best high I've ever been on.

I eagerly press my mouth back against his, but he presses his finger against my lips, pushing me back. He resumes his kissing, and his hands seeks mine out. Our fingers are intertwined now, my small hand protected by his larger one.

And we're starting again, the bed moving in a slower rocking motion. My pants and cries are blocked by his shoulder in which I'm panting/crying/sobbing into. This feels so _good. _I know it's wrong, but I can't help it.

I don't swear, I don't curse. I don't ask him to move harder or faster-- No, I let him _make love _to me. It's different from mindless, mind-blowing sex. This has meaning, and I know we're too far gone to do anything about it now.

He's mine and I'm his-- Even if we have to share each other-- This shows that somewhere, destiny and fate decided to work together to bring _us _together.

He's groaning softly, kissing my neck, jaw, lips, face.

"Oh, _Oliver_--" My voice sounds different to me. It's not raw like it usually is. It's smoother, softer, more delicate as I say, no _moan_ his name.

It feels like hours, but the slow, sweet release comes, and I come harder than I ever have, my body shaking, my heart pounding and my lungs aching for air.

Tingles run from my head to toe and by the way he's shivering, I can tell he's feeling the same thing.

He gets up, off me and I'm cold. I curl up on the bed, pulling the sheets around me, eyes watching him put his clothes back on.

I've never felt this close to him, and it scares me a little.

He turns to look at me, eyes glistening, and he moves forward, hands grabbing my face and pulling me in for a kiss.

"I'm sorry Miles," he whispers. "You were right, but you know that I can't."

I shrug, as my senses are dulled by the bright smoke surrounding me. I know that he has my heart and that's all that seems to matter right now. I don't really care that he's walking away with it.

I slowly drag myself off the bed, feeling empty now.

My clothes make their way back on my body, and I'm warm. I shiver.

"I love you," I whisper, voice sounding around the empty room. Silence sounds in my head as the music sounds outside.

I drag myself back downstairs, ignoring people, looking down.

"Hey baby, where have you been?"

I turn seeing Jake, and over his shoulder I see Oliver hugging Lilly, mouthing tender words in her ear while she giggles and laughs.

For the first time, I don't feel hot and cold, I don't feel happy and sad, bright and dark. I just feel _empty._

Jake prods me. "Miley, baby?" I look up, tearing my eyes away from that sight as I try not to cry.

"Around," I say. "Around."

* * *

_so basically, all the oxymorons are Miley's confusion. Her confusion dissipated a little as the story progressed. :)  
_


End file.
